


Casual Sparring

by RedactedReader



Series: Zukka Week 2021 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Disability, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Swords, Zukka Week 2021
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 18:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedactedReader/pseuds/RedactedReader
Summary: Sokka had seen the new guy around class a few times, but had never interacted with him. That was until he showed up at Piandao's dojo not once, but twice.
Relationships: Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zukka Week 2021 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211480
Kudos: 44





	Casual Sparring

**Author's Note:**

> Written For Zukka Week 2021: Swords
> 
> I am a day behind uploading this, but here I am. I'm thinking about doing the whole week as a Modern AU series of meet cutes largely because Modern AU isn't something I normally write for. Going to see how that works out.

He had sort of seen the new guy a few times before. They shared physics and world history together – although he sat in the back with his head down the entire time – and after a week of him being there, Sokka had discovered him hunched in the back of the cafeteria with his hood up, picking apart a candy bar. He didn’t speak to any one, didn’t look at any of them. Just hide his face under a mess of black bangs and snarls that kept every away. But he was noticeable. That scar stretching across his face and down the side of his neck was impossible to hide. 

And he was here. Sokka had been aimlessly twirling his practice sword, showing off to the batch of young trainees who were still waiting to be picked up, when the door opened and the boy stepped into the main lobby. His shaggy mass of strickenly black hair was pulled back in a messy bun, giving full display of his face. Sokka could just stare, taking in those glistening golden eyes and that far too perfect face. His gaze took in the scar fully, but it wasn’t the horrid mark that people gossiped behind their hands about. It was striking, curving around the side of his face in a way that strangely added definition to the guy’s expression. Sokka felt a little weird, thinking about a scar in terms of someones attractiveness. But… it just had that effect. 

Zuko, his name was. It was nice to finally get to fully see the face that all those rumors belonged to.

“You’re late.” Piandao spoke, his voice tinged with a familiar affection. He was across the room, shuffling through some paperwork.

“Sorry,” Zuko responded. He crossed the lobby, dropping the gym bag he’d been carrying onto one of the chairs with all the other students stuff. “I took the wrong bus.”

Piandao’s brow raised, a smile on his lips. “Why did your Uncle not drop you off?”

Zuko’s eyes rolled. “I’m capable of riding the bus.”

“Clearly not if you are late. Come, let us find you a sword.” Piandao turned, facing Sokka fully. The young man stood straighter, no longer twirling his sword to the quickly dwindling group of children. “Sokka, would you be alright to keep an eye on the children until the remaining parents arrive?”

Sokka nodded. It was a task he was used to doing. He had arrived at the dojo a few years ago looking to train, and had been ecstatic when Piandao had been so impressed on his progress he’d been offered an apprenticeship a few months ago. All though, part of him did suspect that a lot of the apprenticeship offer was just so someone would help handle the overactive children in the time between training ending and parents collecting them all. Not that Sokka would complain, he loved it. 

It wasn’t long before the last of the kids was picked up, just another five minutes or so. The sun had just begun to set and he was all ready to go. Pacing up his stuff, and slipping a slightly smelling hoodie over his sweaty torso, he grabbed his gym back and went to say his goodbyes when Piandao and Zuko reentered the room.

The boy had a sword in his hand, one that the slightly curved and unfamiliar to Sokka. He gave it a few turns with his wrist, shifting the weight around. He looked comfortable with the blades in his hand as he moved towards the center of the training coarse.

“I’m head out,” Sokka said, jabbing a finger towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Piandao nodded, walking towards him. “Thank you for your help today. You were quite excellent with the younger children’s training. I apologize for abandoning you so abruptly just a short moment ago.”

Sokka waved him off. “It’s no prob. Kids got picked up real quick. Have a good night.”

“And enjoy yours.”

Sokka went to go, but his gaze was drawn away and he couldn’t bring himself to turn around. Zuko stood in the middle of the training grounds, in his fitted black t-shirt and jeans, turning the sword around in slow circles. Sokka could just watch as those slow circles grew faster and faster until they were just a blur of silver. That blur became two. The sword split into each of his hands, turning in contrasting circles. It was mesmerizing watching him stand there, his expression more relaxed than Sokka had ever seen. He could just stand there, watching him move all night if the offer was presented. He needed to go now, or he was pretty sure he’d do just that.

Sokka cleared his throat, drawing his attention away. He bowed to Piandao before quickly running from the dojo towards the bus station. 

\--

It was Sunday afternoon and the dojo was closed. It was one of the perks of the apprenticeship that Sokka had a key to the back door to let himself in on such days. He offended helped Piandao with paperwork, or did some minor cleaning. On days with nothing to do, Sokka would take advantage of the empty dojo to practice, often with Piandao sparing with him. The beginning courses for young students was fun and all to help teach, and always helped in Sokka growing more confident in his skills, but these one on ones with Master Piandao were always something he cherished. Even after he’d been declared a Master with nothing Piandao had to teach anymore, Sokka still found something to learn.

It was why he was so excited when he unlocked the dojo’s back door and wandered in. Paperwork was already attended to, and he was ready to train and let some steam. If he’d been paying a little more attention, he would have noticed that someone elses bag was in the office when Sokka tossed his in. He didn’t, merely opening the door and dropping the gym back inside, his sword having been drawn from it. 

Entering into the main section of the dojo, Sokka stopped when he saw someone already there. It was Zuko in the middle of the training pads, moving as fluid as water itself. He held swords in both hands, moving them in sharp motions as he went. There were training dummies set strategically around the room and he dodged and weaved between each, hitting the side of his blade against their foam bodies. Sokka could only watch in fascination as Zuko continued to move about, his bare feet touching the padding only a second before moving again. He seemed to move as if there was a sheet of air under his feet keeping him almost gliding across the floor. It was mesmerizing. Especially when strands of his dark hair came loose from the top knot and began to stick up in every direction. He sported a pair of dark green sweat pants and when Sokka took in that bare chest glistening in sweat, did the blush began to grow hot on his face.

Zuko seemed to finally notice the audience. He caught sight of someone in the doorway and his balance faltered. His footing landed wrong, and he fell forward, crashing into one of the training dummies as he went. The dummy bounced against the padding rolling away. Zuko quickly got to his feet, grabbing the dummy and placing it upright. He grabbed his swords, holding them in a defensive measure as if expecting a fight. 

“Hello,” Sokka said, waving a hand, “It’s Zuko, right? I’m Sokka.”

Zuko blinked at him, his defensive position lessening slightly. “I know. Piandao told me. What are you doing here?”

“I usually come in on Sundays. To help out with some cleaning. Or do some training.”

“I already cleaned the place. And Piandao isn’t here.”

Sokka checked the clock on the wall. He was a few hours early. “He still at that Pai Sho thing?”

“Ya.” 

Zuko still stood there, eyeing Sokka over with caution. He felt weird being scrutinized under those shimmering hazel eyes. Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Sokka raised his sword up just a bit in a hopefully welcoming gesture. “Well, I’m here and you’re here. You wanna spar?”

Blinking was the response Zuko gave. A smirk began to crawl onto his lips. His gaze went towards the sword Sokka held and he looked at it closely. “Can you handle steel? Or do we need practice swords?”

Sokka felt an equally amused smirk crossing his lips. “I can handle my sword quite fine, thank you.”

Zuko answered with a single nod. Sokka took that offer before it was withdrawn. Pulling his sword from its sheath, the two of them moved to an area that was a little more open. They stood opposite sides of the training court, swords balanced in delicate grips. Sokka gave one slight bounce on the tips of his feet before making a quick swipe forward.

Zuko dodged easily. He side stepped, swinging his left sword around. A clash of metal rung in the air as the blades connected for only a moment. Sokka took another jab, going for the opening created. His attack was faltered when Zuko’s other blade came around, knocking him back. They more or less repeated the same patterns of movements. 

Sokka’s strategy had always been more on the offensive one. He moved in quick and well placed strikes, pressing forward at every opportunity created. Zuko, however fought with the opposite strategy in mind. He was as equally quick footed, but Sokka realized quickly that he spent most of the sparring keeping a defensive holding. He held his own, using his matching swords to close in any opening created. He was fluid in his movements and never left an opening unprotected.

There was something feral in his movements though. While Zuko never made too heavy of an attack, and seemed to just being enjoying the friendly spar as much as Sokka was, there was something under each and every strike that spoke of something wild. Maybe it was the moment of push given whenever their swords connected. Or the way Zuko’s fingers were almost embedded into the leather of his handle. Or the dangerous gleam that resided behind those shimmering golden eyes. Whatever it was, there was an almost feral hint threatening to come out.

Sokka won the match. They were both covered in heavy sweat when Sokka got lucky. He knocked the sword from Zuko’s left hand, sending the sword clattering across the floor. When Sokka moved again, he jabbed his sword forward, stopping an inch from Zuko’s face. The sudden movement towards his face sent Zuko tumbling back with a shout. He foot tripped over itself, sending him falling onto his ass. His second sword tumbled from his hand. 

Sokka closed the distance, leveling the sword into the other boy’s face. He opened his mouth to declare himself the victor, but the win went hallow on his lips. That wild gleam in those golden eyes was back, and Sokka finally understood why it seemed so feral. He was reminded of when he’d been younger, around seven or so, and finding a dog digging through their trash cans one night. The creature had been widled down to bones and fur, covered in dried blood and flies. One of its ears had been ripped off, and its snarl had barred broken teeth. The dog had growled whenever Sokka had tried to give it food and his father had pulled him back, saving his hand from being bitten whenever the dog lashed out. Zuko had that same look in his eyes. One that was embedded in fear as his gaze was locked on the sword a mere breath from his face. Sokka realized at the moment that the tip of his sword was leveled right at Zuko’s scarred eye.

He went to step back, trying to calm the tension that had come from nowhere when Zuko moved. He slide under the sword, swiping his foot in between Sokka’s legs. He gaze a pull, knocking Sokka’s feet from under him. He landed hard on the floor, staying seated as Zuko moved in rapid motion to collect his swords. He put a distance between them, keeping the swords held tight in his grip.

Sokka did not understand the sudden change in tension. They seemed to have both been having fun with the casual sparring. Whatever had changed within Zuko had thrown their whole interaction off. He stood there now, shoulders tight and grip on his swords firm. Sokka didn’t reach for his swords, just kept his hands raised as he slowly got up. Before he could do so, he noticed something on the ground where Zuko had fallen. He reached out, picking up the small round object and holding it in his hand. Rising to his feet, Sokka offered the object up. 

Zuko seemed to calm for a moment. He took the swords in both hands, closing the distance between them. Taking the object from Sokka, Zuko slide it onto his scarred ear. He recognized it as a hearing aid in that moment. 

“Sorry,” Zuko said briskly. “Good fight.”

“Ya, good fight.” Sokka nodded back. “You’re pretty good. Who’d you train with?”

“No one.” 

That confused Sokka. “No one? Dude, you’re way too good to have not trained with anyone.”

Zuko shrugged, looking for something in Sokka’s face. “I’m not that good. That’s why I’m here. For Piandao.” 

“He’s a real good teacher. Taught me everything I know.”

“You are really good.”

They just watched each other for a few more moments. Sokka looked over Zuko fully, taking note of the ribs that were making impressions against his skin and the multitude of burns and scars over his torso. There was a story there. A story that Sokka figured was behind his strange defensive mannerisms. Wanting to drain some of the tension, Sokka crossed the room to slip his swords into its sheath. 

Sokka looked over his shoulder, watching as Zuko put away his own swords. “We’ve got history together. Have you picked the topic for you’re report yet?”

“I have. I’m doing the death of Lady Tienhai, and Lady Yangchen’s resolution of that war from it.” 

Sokka turned fully, offering a smile. “I’m doing Yangchen as well. Mainly with her treaty concerning the Firth Nation’s piracy legacy. Those were brought about from each other. We should compare notes. I brought my bag with my notes in it. And my lap top.”

Zuko continued to watch him. After a moment, the remaining tension seemed to sink completely from his shoulders. He nodded. “My bag’s in the office. Let me clean up the place and grab my shirt,.”

“I’ll help.” Together they put the training dummies back up and got the dojo back in order. 

Around an hour or so later, Piandao arrived back, unlocking the back door and entering into the building. He went into his office, not entering whenever he saw the sight within. The boys were seated at the desk, gathered around a laptop. A video was playing, and whatever it was they were watching caused a laugh to be shared between the boys. Piandao took note of how close Zuko was sitting to Sokka. In the short time he’d gotten to know the boy, and from what Iroh had said about his recently recovered nephew, such close contact wasn’t a common occurrence. He didn’t bother closing the office door, afraid that the sound might disturb the comfortable scene. Instead he made his way down the hall, pulling out his phone to inform Iroh that his nephew was indeed safe and sound within the dojo.


End file.
